


Dear Diary

by fuwuneral



Category: Smallville
Genre: And more tags, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gay Panic, M/M, More characters will likely show up, Pretty mild angst but just to be safe, This is silly and I don't know how to tag it, these two are all over the place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwuneral/pseuds/fuwuneral
Summary: Several years post-memory loss, Lex finds a diary he kept in Smallville.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 47
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Smallville canon supplemented by the comics and animated series. This is just a silly, cute story and Lex leans more cartoon evil than actual evil.

"Mr. Luthor, we found something. From Smallville."

Lex looked up from the papers in his hand, piqued.

"This survived the destruction of your mansion; it was the only thing in a small underground safe that went overlooked when the ruins were cleaned out." A heavy-sounding metal box was placed on the desk before him, with a smooth black plate where the lock would be. A fingerprint scanner. "We assumed you would prefer to open it personally. It was obviously something you didn't want found."

Lex did want to open it personally, but he tried to manage his expectations. For all he knew, this may not even have belonged to his past self; It could be a relic from Lionel or Tess Mercer's time at the mansion. If it was his, though, the implications thrilled him. Whatever it was, he had clearly cared so much about hiding it that it had only just been found years after the mansion was destroyed. He wondered idly if his past self had planned for the scenario of losing his memory. 

"Thank you," he said, running his fingers over the edge of the box. "That will be all."

Left alone with the mysterious box, Lex pressed his hand flat against the scanner, which lit up at his touch. He allowed himself a triumphant smirk as he lifted back the lid, revealing a black book with an embossed design on the cover. The inside of the box was wired with explosives to self-destruct should it be forced open. Whatever information was written in its pages, his past self had thought important enough to keep hidden away so thoroughly.

He opened the book, reading the small inscription on the otherwise-blank first page.

_ A place for all your little secrets. Merry Christmas. _

The handwriting was slim and delicate, playfully signed  _ "the other L.L." _ Lana Lang, presumably.

He turned the page and began to read. 

_ I’m not exactly the type to keep a diary, but some secrets are the kind that keep threatening to escape if you don’t find somewhere to put them, and God knows I’ll take this one to the grave.  _

The handwriting was definitely his, though it was slightly messy, the lines bleeding over between words, as if he’d been writing faster than his hands could keep up. That alone gave him confidence that this almost certainly hadn’t been forged. He grinned. For years he’d tried to uncover why his memory was wiped, what it was he’d known that Tess Mercer was willing to die for. Every avenue he’d followed led back to his missing years in Smallville. Whatever was the key to defeating Superman for good, it was there, he was sure of it. This could be it.

_ I’m in love with Clark Kent. _

What.

He read it again, confused and the kind of angry normally reserved for when Superman foiled his plots.

_ I’m in love with Clark Kent. _

“That reporter?!” he exclaimed out loud, unable to contain his reaction. “No. This is...”

_ I can’t tell him, he’s my best friend. My only friend. I can’t risk that on the chance he doesn’t feel the same. And what if he did? What would I do then? Drag him into this life? Into my father’s schemes and machinations? My world would eat Clark alive. I couldn’t do that to him, even if he did want to be with me, which is a big if. More likely, he’d just get that silly look on his face like he did when he found out Chloe liked him and he just assumed he ought to like her back. The boy is so stupid, why did I fall for him? Fuck. He’s open and warm and selfless and-- _

Lex had sunk down at least a foot in his chair, his usual composure gone as he tried to process not only the disappointment that this journal didn’t contain the secret to defeating Superman, but that his past self had been crazy enough about Clark fucking Kent to write it in a secret diary locked in a safe under his mansion. He wasn’t a religious man, but he silently thanked every god he could think of that his father had never found this.

_ He just believes in me, so willingly, no one has ever done that for me before. He just cares. He’s sweet, he’s kind, he’s so infinitely much more than I deserve.  _

Lex felt like he might throw up. 

_ I mean, it doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous. What have they been feeding that boy, he’s built like a grizzly bear. And those eyes. Fuck, I could drown in them. Every time he looks at me. And his jawline, especially when he looks all serious and focused. _

Lex shook his head to clear it and stopped reading, instead flipping through the pages and quickly skimming what was written there. Maybe, amongst all of this inane, lovesick rambling-- _ his _ inane, lovesick rambling--there was at least something useful. If not some Superman-related secret, then at least a chronicle of what had happened to him in Smallville, some hints at his lost memories, descriptions of events that had occurred during those missing years.

Nothing. Nothing useful at all. There was the occasional vague reference to an event, but very little he didn’t already know about. Just seemingly endless waxing poetic about the virtues of the humble Clark Kent. 

_ Clark saved me today, just like he always does. He never disappoints, always there when it’s important. I don’t even care if he’s keeping secrets from me. I’d be a hypocrite if I did. But when I look at him, I want to tell him everything.  _

_ Clark wore that jacket I gave him today. I was right, it did look good on him. Too good, I wish I’d never given it to him. It’s all I can think about. What was I thinking? _

_ Clark and Lana had another fight. Finding myself in the Chloe Sullivan club of jealousy is a new low, but I just wanted to tell him to forget her. Be with me instead. Choose me. _

_ Clark came by the mansion. _

_ Clark gave me a thoughtful birthday gift. _

_ Clark. _

_ Clark. _

_ Clark. _

Lex snapped the book shut. He’d had enough. This was so utterly ridiculous his brain didn’t even know how to react. All his thoughts may as well have been replaced with TV static. He tossed the journal in the trash can and lit a match, but paused too long and let it burn down to his fingers, falling uselessly to the floor. With a frustrated growl, he fished the journal out of the trash and shoved it back in the box, locking it and placing it in his office safe. 

He left a message for his secretary to reschedule his appointments for the rest of the day and headed to the gym to blow off his frustration.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The revelation of the diary's contents leaves Lex reeling.

Clark Kent, the man who’d apparently occupied every waking moment of the younger Lex’s thoughts. It was absurd. Sure, he was attractive, clearly intelligent, and--no, what? Lex cut off that line of thought before he could start doodling their names in little hearts. How had this happened? This wholesome farm boy, breaking right through the walls Lex had so carefully built even at that age. Stealing his heart, turning him into a romantic fool. That was a different time, he told himself. He was young then, lonely, desperate for anyone who showed him the slightest affection. No wonder he’d been twice divorced before he was 25. 

“Mr. Luthor?”

Lex snapped out of his wandering thoughts--this had never been a problem before, he cursed himself internally--back to the man seated across from him, who unhelpfully happened to be the very one who occupied those racing thoughts.

Clark shifted in the chair he almost looked too big for, clipboard in hand and eyeing Lex suspiciously. “Are you feeling alright? We can postpone this interview if you’re not well.”

“I’m fine,” said Lex quickly. He sat up straighter, folding his hands in front of him, and tried to regain his usual composure. Had a silly diary written by his past self really shaken him that badly? He was always in control, what happened?

“If you say so...” Clark didn’t look so sure, but let it go with grace. “Then please, continue.”

Lex paused for a long, stupid moment, mouth slightly open as his brain struggled to remember what he’d been talking about. “You’ll have to excuse me, what was the question again?”

If Clark answered, Lex didn’t hear it, because as he did he took off his glasses, wiping them clean on the edge of his shirt, and glanced briefly up at Lex, their eyes meeting for a moment.

Lex nearly fell off his chair. 

Clark put his glasses back on, face firmly set into an expression of concern. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Well, a part of strategy is knowing when to cut one’s losses and admit defeat. Even if that defeat came at the hands of a handsome reporter who didn’t seem to have any idea what he was doing. “Actually, I think we should postpone this interview, if you don’t mind.” Lex stood up, hurrying the bewildered Clark out of his office. “I’ve just remembered something important, and I’m afraid it’s requiring my full attention.”

“Alright, I’ll, uh, come back tomorrow?” Clark looked baffled by the strange behavior, and Lex couldn’t say he blamed him. What on Earth was wrong with him?

“Yes, yes, that’s fine, I’ll have my secretary call you to reschedule.” He ushered Clark out the door--or tried to, anyway, the man was like an unusually polite brick wall--and closed it behind him.

Lex leaned back against the door, letting out a sigh. “Fuck,” he said aloud, shaking his head. What about this revelation had shaken him so much that he couldn’t keep it together through one interview? He’d already known that he and Clark knew each other in Smallville--he was able to gather that much from his previous research into his past, despite the wiped records from his time there--but as far as he was concerned, any history between them had died with his memories. Clark hadn’t denied that they used to know each other, exactly, but he’d never spoken about it, and Lex had assumed they’d been less than friendly then. If this old diary of his was to be believed, however, Clark had been the first one Lex turned to when he needed to talk, when he needed someone he could trust.

Whatever he’d done to drive Clark away, it didn’t surprise him, considering their differences. It was more of a surprise that he’d been friends with someone as nauseatingly wholesome as Clark Kent to begin with, let alone...

He poured himself a drink and took a long sip, letting the pleasant burn pull him out of yet another Clark Kent-centric train of thought. It was troubling how much of Lex’s mind the handsome reporter had consumed in the few days since finding that diary. So far, it had remained in the lead-lined safe in his office, untouched, but now he found himself crossing the room and opening it, pulling out the box and the small book within. Feeling resigned to his fate, he opened it to where he left off. 

_ Guess who saved my life again today? Clark never fails to prove himself too good for me. He tackled me out of the way of a bullet; he could have died. Either he’s bulletproof or he’s just that selfless, and I’m leaning toward the latter. It makes me want to tell him to leave me alone, not to let me drag him down with me. I’m too selfish, though. I never want to let him go. He’s my anchor, he makes me want to be better. He almost makes me believe that I can be. It’s the way he looks at me, with those eyes. No one else has ever looked at me that way. Like I don’t have anything to prove to him. Even at my worst, he’s never given up on me.  _

Lex snapped the book shut again, with unnecessary force, and dropped it quickly on the desk like it had burned him. Why was he doing this to himself?

In an effort to distract himself, he idly turned on the TV, taking another sip of whiskey. On the screen, Superman hovered over the newly-extinguished remains of a badly burned building, a crowd of spectators gathered below. Lex set down his glass, struck by sudden clarity. He’d been spiraling out of control since he read that diary, and his Superman fixation had always focused him, given him something to put his back against. That focus was what he needed now. 

As the news anchor sang the caped hero’s praises, Lex pulled out a fresh pad of paper and got to work. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex's plan backfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed a minor formatting issue.

It wasn’t exactly the most elegant plan Lex had thought up, but as a distraction, it served its purpose. An abandoned, but not yet demolished Luthorcorp lab was cleaned up a bit, evidence of the actual projects taking place there erased and replaced with the usual trappings of morally-questionable experimentation, the kind of thing to which Superman would never turn a blind eye when Luthorcorp was involved. Spreading the rumors was even easier. An anonymous tip here, a small bribe there, and the information was right where Lex wanted it: creating enough of a buzz to hopefully draw Superman's interest, but not so much as to cause a public scandal. Time to wait now, watch, and spring the trap when the caped hero inevitably came sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. 

He really should have known he’d attract someone else first, someone notorious for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Lois Lane showed up at the lab not two days later, swiping a stolen ID card and sneaking in to apply her particular brand of investigative reporting. From where he watched on the surveillance cameras, Lex sighed. This wasn’t exactly a problem with the “trap Superman” plan--Lois would serve as better bait than the lab itself--but it did throw a wrench in the “get Lex’s mind off of Clark Kent” plan. Luckily, she seemed to be alone at the moment, with no glasses or curly black hair in sight. If she had found the lab, Superman couldn’t be far behind, so Lex grabbed his keys and set out to beat him there. 

A car he assumed belonged to Lois was parked outside, her usual overconfidence on full display. Lex pulled up behind it and strode inside, pulling up the surveillance feed on his phone. Lois was wandering, looking over some scattered papers she’d found and talking on the phone. It really was a wonder that she managed to sneak into anywhere, Lex thought as he tried not to guess who she was talking to. He avoided her as he made his way through the building, to the lead-lined room that he’d prepared. A remote in Lex’s pocket would drop the lead shielding in a second, exposing enough Kryptonite to incapacitate Superman long enough to be restrained. 

He heard the tell-tale click of high heels outside the door, the rattling of the handle, and a few choice curse words. So far, so according to plan. The miniature Lois on the surveillance feed walked away from the door, no doubt in search of a key or a crowbar. A few minutes later, predictable as ever, something red blurred across the screen and Superman appeared in front of the door. He paused, presumably trying to use his X-ray vision, before tearing open the lock with ease and walking right in.

Lex grinned. “Superman.” He flicked the switch on the remote, and every nerve in his body lit up with the instinct that something was very wrong in the split second before the entire room exploded.

The walls and ceiling around them caved in with a deafening crash, glittering green shards flying with the rest of the debris. Superman tackled Lex to the floor, shielding him and throwing the cape over them both. In such close quarters, their faces were inches apart, and Lex found himself looking into Superman’s eyes, time seeming to slow around them as he took in the particular expression on that chiseled face.

Oh.

Oh no.

Clark Kent was Superman.

The shrapnel and chunks of concrete bounced off; Superman’s pained groan indicated that the Kryptonite hadn’t. He slumped on top of Lex as the debris settled, not quite unconscious but certainly on his way there, if the shards of Kryptonite embedded in his back were any indication. 

A large part of Lex’s brain felt a hundred different ways about the revelation, but there was no time to indulge it right now, trapped in a caved-in lab under an incapacitated Superman as he was. Moving on instinct and adrenaline, he managed to roll to the side, freeing himself from under the dead weight and looking around to assess the situation. He saw his phone lying a few feet away; it was hopelessly shattered. The fallen debris blocked the entrance, but at least they didn’t seem to be in any danger of another cave-in. The Kryptonite shards sticking out of Superman’s back were a more immediate problem. How had this gone so wrong that Lex was now thinking of that as a problem? Now wasn’t the time to ponder that question. 

He pushed the cape to the side, pulling out the biggest of the shards; the smaller ones would have to wait for a better tool than Lex’s fingers. As long as they were in the room, the Kryptonite would still affect him, but better that than nothing. He turned his attention to the blocked entrance and carefully moved one piece of concrete, not trusting the whole thing not to collapse on top of him.

“What happened?! Are you in there?” Lois’s voice came faintly from the other side of the cave-in.

“We’re in here!” Lex shouted back. “We’re trapped!” 

“Where’s Superman?” Her tone was accusatory, which Lex had to admit was fair.

“He’s unconscious, I never planned for this to happen!” 

He barely heard Lois curse through the wall of debris. “Just hang on, I’ll get you both out of there!” Her footsteps retreated quickly. 

Superman--Clark Kent--groaned in pain behind him. “Shit...” He started digging in earnest, clearing away what he could. The sound of metal on stone told him Lois had joined his efforts on the other side with whatever tool she’d managed to find. The chunks of concrete shifted suddenly and Lex braced himself, but the ceiling didn’t collapse any further. Before long, they’d cleared enough space for him to hook his arms under Superman’s and awkwardly drag him through face-down. He figured it was better than agitating the Kryptonite shrapnel still in his back.

“Oh my God!” Lois rushed to his side, grabbing one arm and helping Lex pull him out onto the floor. She turned her frantic eyes to Lex. “How did this happen?! I doubt whatever trick you were trying to pull involved getting yourself blown up.”

“Superman needs medical attention, there’s still Kryptonite stuck in his body,” said Lex, ignoring the question. 

“And where exactly are you going?!”

“Buildings don’t just explode by themselves, Ms. Lane. I need to find out what happened before the trail goes cold.” He stood and brushed himself off out of habit, a little bruised but otherwise fine, and walked away.

Tracking down the saboteur turned out to be embarrassingly easy; he was a former LexCorp employee with a grudge. That someone so disappointingly average was able to almost kill Lex really drove home how off his game he had been the last few weeks. He listened to the angry voicemail Lois had left with his secretary just long enough to hear that Superman was okay, then fed the rest of his admittedly terrible plan to the fireplace in his living room, watching the flames dance as he finally started to process today’s realization.

Clark Kent. Superman. His arch enemy, and apparently, his best friend in another life. The small-town boy Lex had cared so much about that he’d thought the only thing to do was pour his heart out in a diary and lock it away. Suddenly, it hurt that neither Clark Kent the mild-mannered reporter nor Superman the caped hero had reached out to Lex in the years since he’d lost his memory. Not even the man who insisted on trying to save everyone had thought Lex redeemable. 

He sighed and sat down in the chair by the fireplace. He had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be feelings-heavy, but this is still going to be a fluffy fic! It just got a little more emotional than I originally thought it would.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex and Clark talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a little more serious than I originally intended, but I hope you still enjoy it!

_ As long as I remember, my father has tried to drag me down to his level. He’s been there at every turn to make sure that no matter how hard I try, I’ll end up just like him. He doesn’t understand why someone like Clark would do good for its own sake, would do the right thing no matter what it costs him. Maybe that’s why he always looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s odd, I never thought I’d meet someone who I felt understood that, having so much responsibility from such a young age. I don’t know why I found that in a Kansas farm boy, of all places, but I can see it in him. For some reason, I know he understands what it’s like to feel destined for greatness, and everything that comes with it. _

He really was stupid, wasn’t he? It all made sense now, in hindsight, and Lex cursed himself for not putting together the pieces sooner. He likely had, before his memory was wiped. Maybe that secret was the one too dangerous for him to know. 

The familiar feeling of being watched struck Lex, and he knew before he turned to look that Superman was hovering above his balcony, statuesque as always and yet somehow weightless. He put the journal in his desk drawer, going to open the door. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here. Come for a lecture on how it’s never too late to change my wicked ways?”

Superman walked right in like he owned the place. According to Lex’s journal, that had always been a habit of Clark’s; odd, for someone usually so polite. “Lois Lane told me what happened at the Luthorcorp lab. Apparently you had something of a change of heart.”

Straight to the point, then. “I couldn’t let you die just yet,” Lex replied, closing the door. “It would have been easy, but you know pride has always been my fatal flaw.”

“What are you talking about?” Superman turned to face Lex, but his eyes scanned the room as if expecting another trap. 

“I needed you to know that I know your secret,” said Lex, enjoying the way the superhero’s gaze immediately fixed on him. “Clark Kent.”

Lex had expected a hand of steel around his throat, hence the chunk of Kryptonite resting next to the journal in the desk drawer. What he hadn’t expected was for Superman’s composure to crumble, his posture turning defensive. He looked scared. It didn’t bring Lex as much satisfaction as he thought it would.

“What do you want?” Clark asked. Why, after all this time, did that look of distrust cause Lex pain?

And why didn’t he know how to answer that question? What did he want? He didn’t want Superman out of his way; he could admit to himself that he never had. He never would have gone through with killing Superman, if only because life would have been insufferably dull without him. Nothing else would ever challenge him the way that Superman had. “I’ll never use it against you, just so you know,” he said sincerely. “I wouldn’t resort to that. What I want is to know about my past. I know you were there, I know we were friends. I know my memory was wiped on purpose, and I know you had something to do with it. Tell me about it, everything you know.”

“Or you’ll tell the world, I assume?”

“No,” said Lex without hesitating. “Consider it a gesture of goodwill. ” 

“You’ll understand if I have a hard time believing that.” Clark crossed his arms. “What if I don’t want to tell you?”

“Why, because you have something else to hide or because you think it will make me even worse than you already think I am?” Lex could feel himself getting angry, but oddly, it didn’t occur to him to reach for the Kryptonite.

“Because you lost your memory for a reason!” Clark had raised his voice now, and Lex followed suit.

“What right do you have to keep this from me? I want my memories back, I’m entitled to that much!”

“And it’s always about what you want, isn’t it?!” Clark snapped. The look in his eyes was unsettling on that perfect face, usually so benevolent. There was anger there, yes, but also a profound hurt that lurked below the surface. Distantly, Lex hoped he wouldn’t have to see Superman cry, as much as he once would have given for the sight. “If I told you about those years, when we were friends, how you betrayed us all, would they even feel real to you?! You don’t have to live with what you did, but I do. I suffered, people died, and just like always, all you can think about is yourself.”

You’re right, Lex knew he should say. Admit fault, deescalate, and try a different angle. He didn’t doubt that’s what the Lex who had filled that journal would have done. 

Instead, he bristled and doubled down. “What are you so afraid of, Superman?" The name tasted like venom, and instinctively, Lex aimed where he knew it would hurt. “Worried you won’t be able to save me?” 

There was a moment of silence, during which the look on Clark’s face made Lex wish he had said anything else. Then a rush of wind, shattering glass, and Lex was alone.

He poured himself a drink and downed it in one go, taking the bottle back to his desk, where he retrieved the journal from the drawer. He’d read it so many times already, as if somehow he could resurrect the romantic, hopeful young man who had written it.

_ I wonder if he knows. I doubt it, he’s so oblivious, and besides, it’s easy not to notice anyone else when you’re wearing Lana-colored glasses. It’s fine. It means he doesn’t catch me staring. I feel almost guilty, but could it be wrong when everything about him is just so unflinchingly good? If you told me Clark Kent’s smile was what fueled the sun, I would believe you. It’s like he’s made of warmth and hope and all of those other sappy things I never thought I’d find myself saying. _

It was easy to look at Superman and imagine that he had fallen from the stars fully formed and knowing he would be lauded as the world’s greatest hero. Through his own recollections in that journal, however, he saw glimpses of Clark before he found that self-assurance. He could picture the Clark he once knew, the young boy who had no way of knowing what he would become one day. Superman was more human than Lex had any right to call himself, and the thought filled him with a surge of affection for that boy of years ago, who he had never met but for whom another version of himself had been willing to do anything. 

Lex rifled through the book’s pages again before setting it down on the desk, not bothering to put it back in its box. He stepped out onto the balcony, looking out over the glittering lights of Metropolis at night before turning his gaze to the sky. 

“Superman,” he spoke into the air, trying to keep his voice as confident as he could manage, “I’m done. You win. Come get me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex and Clark talk, again.

“My people found that journal in the ruins of my mansion in Smallville, looking for clues to my lost memories. I assumed the information inside it must be important, if I’d hidden it so thoroughly, but it wasn’t. It was just pages and pages of...” Lex gritted his teeth as he looked up at Clark, clearly reluctant to say the next part. “Rambling about how in love I was with a certain superpowered farm boy.” 

Clark’s eyes widened and his practiced Superman posture faltered, and for a moment he looked just like Lex imagined he had when they’d first met. Mercifully, he didn’t say anything.

“This is...not what I was expecting when you asked me to interrogate Lex Luthor,” said Wonder Woman from where she stood above Lex’s chair, her lasso wrapped around his crossed arms. 

“I didn’t say ‘interrogate,’” said Clark, a little indignantly. “He submitted to this willingly.”

“And I’m almost regretting it now,” Lex remarked from where he sat. “But I understand. Given our track record, this is the only way you could believe what I have to say is true. Not that I’d ever come up with a scheme that involved humiliating myself like this.”

“No, I didn’t think you would,” Clark admitted. “But can you blame me for not trusting you, after everything?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Lex sighed. “We might as well get this over with. It didn’t take me long to figure out your secret identity after that. With everything I’d written about you, it all just fell into place. I knew when I looked into your eyes.” He quickly cut himself off--he hadn’t meant to say that, especially not in front of Wonder Woman. What he had to say next wasn’t exactly going to be comfortable, either. Composing himself, he continued, “I want what we had then. I’m not the same person I was, but I don’t think you are either. I want to know you again.”

“Lex...” 

“Answer me later,” said Lex quickly. “We have a lot to talk about, anyway.” He glanced between the two superheroes. “Are you satisfied?”

Superman nodded. Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow but thankfully said nothing as she untied Lex. “I’ll be taking my leave, then,” she said as she hooked the lasso back onto her belt, with a tone of voice that suggested she wanted nothing to do with this situation. She paused at the window, glancing back at Clark. “Be careful, Superman.” With that, she was gone.

Clark crossed the room to Lex, offering his hand to help him up. “Lex, I don’t know what to say. I know you don’t remember most of it, but our history is pretty...fraught, to say the least.” Those blue eyes met Lex’s again, and something in him ached.

“I could have told you that much,” said Lex. “I don’t expect everything to suddenly be fine between us. I don’t know if it ever will be.” He stood up but kept Clark’s hand, pulling himself into his space and looking up into his eyes. “But I want to try. Clark...I didn’t think I was even capable of love.”

“I never doubted that you were,” Clark said firmly. It was odd, seeing this side of him while he still wore Superman’s uniform. 

“You quite literally know me better than I know myself. I want to know the version of myself who wrote this,” he said, holding up the journal. “The one who fought his dark side no matter how many times my father dragged him down. The one who believed in love and second chances. And what’s more, I want to know you.” Lex had never felt so exposed as he did at this moment. After years of refusal to show any vulnerability, here he was, laying bare his soul in the hopes that Clark would see sincerity there. “If you still decide you want to walk away from me, that’s fine.” It wasn’t, but he couldn’t deny that Clark would be within his rights to do so. “But give me a chance.”

The seconds stretched excruciatingly long between them. 

“It’s not going to be the same, Lex,” Clark said finally, something vulnerable in his voice. It wasn’t a no; he was just as worried as Lex was that this fragile thing between them, whatever it was, would go up in flames. It struck Lex again that unlike him, Clark remembered how much the last time had hurt. 

“Well, I certainly hope not. The last time ended with us becoming arch enemies and me getting my memory wiped,” said Lex with a squeeze of Clark’s hand that he hoped was reassuring. 

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay.” Clark’s voice was quieter than Lex had ever heard it, a far cry from Superman’s self-assured tenor.

“Okay?” Lex wanted to hate the hopefulness he heard in his own voice, but found he didn’t have it in him.

“Let’s try again.”

_ ONE YEAR LATER _

Metropolis gleamed below Lex from where he sat on his penthouse balcony with a glass of wine, admiring the view of the city lights. He yawned, glancing at his watch. Nearly midnight. With a sigh, he resigned to call it a night and stood to head inside before a familiar  _ whoosh _ stopped him in his tracks. When he turned around, the Man of Steel was hovering above him.

“It’s pretty bold of you to show your face here,” he said conversationally. “Unless you care to explain to Ms. Lane why Superman keeps showing up on Lex Luthor’s doorstep.”

Superman touched down on the balcony, his stony facade dissolving as he smiled at Lex, chuckling. “Don’t even say that. It’s been hard enough trying to keep her off our trail while we figure things out.” 

Lex grinned, stepping closer to Clark so they were almost nose to nose. “I can see the headline now.  _ Daily Planet Dork Bags Devilishly Handsome CEO--” _

Clark rolled his eyes. “You’re the dork.” He wrapped an arm around Lex’s waist, pulling him into an enthusiastic kiss. 

“Mm...” Lex pulled back, keeping his hand over the emblem on Clark’s chest. “You missed our reservation,” he said, his tone accusatory. “Nobody stands up Lex Luthor.”

“Sorry,” said Clark sheepishly, “There was a hostage situation over at--”

“I’m just teasing, Clark," said Lex with an easy smile. “Dinner’s inside, I figured you would be hungry.” 

“You figured right.” Clark followed Lex inside, shedding the cape and hanging it next to Lex’s coat. “I’ll change and be right back.” He kissed Lex on the cheek before disappearing down the hall. 

Lex watched him go with a warmth in his chest that he was starting to get used to. He crossed the room to his desk and opened the drawer, pulling out a leather-bound journal. Sitting down, he flipped it open to the next blank page and marked down the date. 

“Isn’t it a little late to be starting your nightly writing?” Clark’s strong presence was behind him suddenly, leaning over the back of his chair. 

Lex glanced up at him. “Maybe I just wanted it to start with ‘Clark came home to me safely.’” He reached up and pulled Clark down for another kiss; he doubted it would ever cease to amaze him that he could do that whenever he wanted. “It’s a little late, yes. But I'd rather that than miss a day." He leaned back against Clark, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Just in case I ever need it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with the first story I've written in years! I'm thinking of writing a follow-up taking place during the one-year timeskip, so let me know if you're interested!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [One Year Later](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048835) by [fuwuneral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwuneral/pseuds/fuwuneral)




End file.
